Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem
story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with
the person sitting to his or her immediate right. One of you
will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The
partner will read the first paragraph and then add another
paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a third
paragraph, and so on back and forth. Remember to reread what
has been written each time in order to keep the story
coherent. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has
been reached.
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The
camomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home,
now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times,
that he liked camomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs,
keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if
she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up
again. So camomile was out of the question.
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack
squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to
think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo
named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year
ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic
communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so
far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed
out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The
jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across
the cockpit.
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he
felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one
woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth
stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of
Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space
Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news
simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the
window, dreaming of her youth--when the days had passed unhurriedly
and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract
her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things
around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?"
she pondered wistfully.
Little did she know, but she has less than 10 seconds to
live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership
launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted
wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament
Treaty through Congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the
hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human
race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the
Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough
firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them
they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion
missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his
top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the
coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion which
vaporized Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President
slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm
going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My
writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate
adolescent.
Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts
at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.
